


Somewhere Inbetween

by Hittie



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Friendship/Love, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 08:36:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hittie/pseuds/Hittie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin post s5 fic. When Arthur finally wakes up, he doesn't only have to cope with the present, but with the fact of not knowing why he was awaken in the first place. His confusion only grows when they find themselves back in Camelot, surrounded by his most fellow knights, chasing an unknown magical source of crisis. Little they know what will come out of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any characters of Merlin.
> 
> I couldn't really get over the end of Merlin, therefore I choose to follow the hard route of fanfiction writing. However, I am in the middle of my exams, SATs, and every fothcoming uni application. Therefore, I cannot guarantee you precise update dates, only promise to do my best.

PROLOGUE

The storm was blowing outside like hell. Literally. Hundreds of years old trees were thrown like sticks by the storm, and the piping sound of wind penetrating through the holes of the windows was only getting louder with every minute.

The sky was dark, covered with clouds so tightly, that not even the Moon's bare light could trespass them. If not for the lamps on the street, the city would've been in a complete darkness. However, not even the electricity could keep it much longer. If there were stars on the sky over Great Britain, which was not too frequent anyway, because of the light pollution.

Rain wasn't something hard to come across by, but this weather was way more than just some simple rain. A storm wouldn't really express the reality either. A hurricane might have. Rain was transformed into sharp water drops, not only hurting people's skin, but almost cutting through it. It was far from the nice, down-pouring water that people were used to. Huge thunderbolts crossed the sky almost every minute, accompanied by ear-hurting sounds not long after. Darkness had descended onto every house, and even though electricity hadn't been cut out yet, people didn't dare to turn on the lights ‒ only one-two small, candlelight was visible through the watery windows. Not a single soul was outside in this weather.

The wind-storm gathered the dry leaves ‒ all seeming black ‒ and forcefully threw them at all available surfaces. Strange knocking on windows, and brooming at the streets.

This wasn't going to end anytime soon.

CHAPTER I

Merlin didn't think he could tolerate it any longer. He was more than fed up with the weather, and the fact that he couldn't really do anything against it. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something didn't seem quite normal with it, but there was no specific magic he could sense. And if something,  _that_  really was his area. After all, he had more than one and a half thousands year to perfect his skill. Just because that  _prat_ enjoyed his sleep too much.

He had considered many times, that he would just simply make some fire, or even manipulate the electricity but it would've been pretty strange to have everything functioning normally in this weather. And if someone, his neighbours would certainly notice. They  _always_ did. It was just purely annoying. With time, he had hoped, that if not even recognising it ‒ he had to abandon this desire quite long ago ‒ people would at least overlook strange situations happening around them. But since society was more than keen to acknowledge one of his flying light to be an  _alien_ , he couldn't really expect much. Although it was a nice expectation. And that light was really just to protect himself from some thieves.  _Really_. But his neighbours were just the worst. Even if he was careful to make any spectacular magical attempts in the middle of the day, when nobody was supposed to be home, or at the middle of the night, when they were assumed to be asleep, somebody always found him. Which was just annoying. And this made him abandon his idea. He would never hear the end of it. They were worse than Arthur. Who had a great amount of explanation to do, anyway. He wasn't going to overlook one and a half thousands years of sleeping after all.

The prophecy said, that the king will return when he is needed. Well, Merlin had seen plenty of times, when he could've used the legendary king of Camelot (which was a bit his doing, because he made sure that people will never forget the prat's name), but it seemed that he was just fine sleeping. So he had tried and get out the best of each situation. Even though he couldn't keep himself from making some accidents. And  _of course_ everybody seemed to remember. When he had convinced the poorer people that they are no less then the rich, he was only up for some talking ‒ he didn't actually expect a  _civil war_.

He did although spirit always the wind coming in the window, and warmed up a bit his apartment. This he could do without any strange looks from his neighbours. It was a huge improvement. Merlin didn't have a big place, it was a small flat with only a kitchen, living room, small bedroom and the bathroom. It was enough for him, and the friends he had tended not to visit very often. Nevertheless, it was safer this way. He couldn't say that his place was particularly clear, and organised, but more often then not he managed to find all he needed. Even though he was perfectly up to date with every inventions, his flat was pretty simply furnished in regards to anything which involved science. He had a laptop and a phone of course ‒ after all he wasn't going to live just from nothing, therefore even he had to work. And it wasn't that he didn't enjoy the historical research company he worked for (specialized in the Medieval Ages, just for the irony of it), but he couldn't get his magic appreciated. Or even discovered. He didn't want to find himself in a prison made of glass, where scientists would observe him. Science wasn't even at the same level as magic. It was totally explainable with logic, and that gave away all of its beauty. If was fixed and predictable.  _Boring_.

It didn't seem that the storm was going to calm down any-time soon, nevertheless Merlin approached the windows. The whole thing just didn't seem  _right_. The weather forecast predicted a beautiful weather for the whole week. Of course it would've been too good to be true, but a hurricane and a sunny day were pretty far from each other. Even though, there was still no trace of magic out there. But what was going on then?

Merlin leaned closed to the window, putting his two hands at the sides of his face, trying to see anything from outside. Randomly some lamps decided to work or not ‒ but rather the latter ‒, but there was nothing to see outside. Along the huge thunderbolts, nothing disturbed the rampage of the storm.

There was a possibility, though. The dollop head might be awakening. Merlin shot a last sight outside. Even if it  _was_  actually because of Arthur, that this was going on, there was no way, he would go outside. Not in this weather.

 _Although_...

 _If there was really a possibility_...

A thunderbolt stoke in the tree just before his window, making him almost jump out of his skin, and blind for half a minute.

Nah, better stay inside.

Ɵ

About an hour later, when the storm didn't seem to change at all for the better, Merlin couldn't help himself, and took off to find his spell book. In the last centuries, he didn't really need it anymore, he had more than enough time to learn most of the spell. But there were some which he just didn't want to bother with, though he had the feeling, that he might very well regret that later on. After all, who would've let him practice healing spells on its own body? Some things were just better kept as a secret. If possible, the book was even in a worse condition, then when he got it. He had really tried to keep it in the best shape possible, he had even used some enchantments, to 'mummify' it. Probably it was just the way magic books were supposed to look like. He didn't remember any information about weather conditions like that ‒ the book's section on weather was short anyway. But it never hurt to check, right?

At the meantime, thunderbolts kept circling around the area. They didn't struck into anything else apart from that tree earlier on, but the sounds that accompanied them were frightening enough. Merlin tried to keep out the sounds from his head the best possible, but he couldn't help but jump several times.

After a desperate half an hour, he had found nothing. Weather was weather. He knew very well that with the passing of a powerful curse, rain might come, but this fas far more, than just some simple rain. However, it was true, that Arthur's death was more than a simple curse, it was one of the most powerful prophecies, just as his return.  _Still_...

What was the actual chance of this happening? Of Arthur awakening now? What was so different from the previous centuries? In what ways was the World in a bigger danger, than ever before, needing the mighty king of Camelot. That wasn't too convincing. Arthur was brave, that Merlin would've signed anytime, but he rather followed his instincts than his brain. Which wasn't always that bad, and it had changed quite a lot since the beginning.  _Still..._

Merlin was pretty much aware with everything occurring in the World, always trying to keep note of every events, constantly speculating when Arthur would finally come back. But it had been long.  _Too long._

He stepped close to the window once again, looking out to the terrible weather. He wouldn't wish a trip outside even for his enemy. but if there was a thin change that something was happening on the islands, then he could not simply look over it, terrible weather or not. Merlin sighed. He reached for his windcheater, but he knew very well, that it was useless anyway, because in a few minutes he will be soaked to his bones. However, he could help a bit on it with magic. He had never actually moved too far from the islands. It was unsure how long it will take for Arthur to wake up, therefore he had never travelled too far from that place. Of course he was there, when the Wright brothers had made their first plane fly, at the French revolution, and when Lenin came to power. He was there all. He spoke so many languages, that he didn't even keep count. The warlock had more time than everyone ever, he was living history. He had seen nations rise and fall, geniuses live and create, the World change and develop. But now he was wearing his silly windcheater, and without anyone knowing what he was up to, disappeared in the dark.

The weather was even worse than it seemed to be. However, Merlin had his advantages, living near the island, he had a way to get there under any conditions. There was no force to stop him if he wanted to cross the lake, no power to prevent him getting back to the only remaining centre of magic. As Britain developed, people found a way to survive without any use of magic ‒ ans it had never been legalised in Camelot, after the death of Arthur, who was prophesied to renew the laws. A magical shield had been good enough to cover him from the quite hurtful water drops, as Merlin made his way to his boat. It was the one he kept there from the very beginning, nobody was able to access it but him, not even to see it. There were some small enchantments which could make the day of even the most powerful warlock of all times. According to the inhuman storm, the lake was supposed to be in-crossable. Dark, almost black waves were supposed to go in multiple directions at a time, throwing tree branches to any who even dared to get close to it. But it wasn't. It was dead silent. No movements, no waves, no sounds. Only darkness, and mist was covering its whole surface. Merlin had very well noticed all that was going on around him, but that had only made his senses more cautious. That was  _certainly_ no longer natural. The weather and the lake couldn't show such a paradox, yet they were just doing it. He quickly descended into his boat, and with a single word, and a flash of gold the boat took off silently to the other shore.

Ɵ

_Darkness. Infinite and dead silent. No movements, no sounds, no lights. Only the deep, calm, and somehow overly peaceful eternity. He was sure that this was a place that he would never like to quit. It was comfortable, not warm, neither cold, and nobody was hurrying anywhere. Noone was in danger, and everything had seemed just fine. This state wouldn't change from one minute to the other, it was this from the latest he could remember, even though that could've been from a few seconds to years and centuries. He didn't care. He finally didn't have to. Some really weak memories sometimes filled his mind, showing him pictures and emotions most likely long forgotten; even he couldn't put his finger on it, that it had ever happened. Maybe it was just some sort of imagery coming with this existence. This could've been his whole life. Peaceful and calm. No distributions. He had sometimes wondered, if it was real at all, and if yes, then if there were others. For how much he cared, they could've been just at the reach of his arm, he had never moved in order to find out. There was no need, existence was just fine the way it was. Change always meant something new, and probably uncomfortable. He didn't know how he had learned that, if he had never experienced it, after all his life had been about floating and floating in this dark, protective environment. It was safety and comfort. That was where he belonged._

_The change was first almost unnoticeable, it came just as dawn comes, secretly and slowly, and we only espy it when it is already here. The calmness stayed around him, although it seemed that some movement was going on ‒ he personally couldn't feel it, but something certainly had to be there, as it just simply didn't feel right. As if huge hands, which he couldn't feel, nor touch, just acknowledge, would've pulled him out of his comfortable place. But on the other hand, he couldn't actually make sure of it. There were just so many other possible explanations, one more likely than the other, and most of them ‒ thanks the gods ‒ didn't involve any movements. It must have been his imagination again, just as with those so called memories. Though he became kind of uncertain, when he suddenly felt a very careful breeze on his cheek, and the whole environment seemed to have changed. There were no surprises ‒ yet anyway ‒ therefore he didn't worry. If he hadn't for the last, noone knew how long,, why would he start now? He decided to simply not care about it. After all, it would probably be just as good as the other was, nobody seemed to cause a distribution, a problem. He would just keep existing, and nothing more..._

" _Arthur!"_

_The echo of a long lost memory._

" _Arthur!"_

_It seemed that the person was actually getting closer. How...? Why...?_

_The voice seemed somehow familiar._

"Arthur!"

He felt two hands touching his cheeks, as if someone would have grabbed very carefully his head.

"Can you hear me?"

Yes, he could the most certainly hear him. But his nerves didn't seem to be able to formulate any responses. He had some intentions of replying, telling that person, whoever he was, that yeas, he could. He had heard him since quite of a time. He just didn't know how. It would've been nice, though. Since he thought that he had realised the voice, he wanted to make the connection. True, it would've been nicer to stay in the calmness, but he didn't really have a choice in the matter. What else could he do? Eyes. Vision. Maybe if not talk to him, he couldn't least see him. Maybe then he would remember what face was associated with the voice.

First it was only something blurry. Black and white t the same time, though somehow not blending into grey. He couldn't find the focus, and blinking didn't make it better. Though hurting, with a peaky feeling, he still tried to force the opened, because even though it would've been more than comfortable to go back to the silence, curiosity won over him. He kept his eyes opened, waiting the vision to clear up. The first thing he noticed was that the black and white could be separated totally. Not that much later, he realised that there was a difference between white and white. It seemed that the whiter was surrounding something just simply pale. In that paleness, there were two blue, gleaming eyes, which seemed to be focused on him. He kept the eyesight, gods know how long, when he heard his voice once again, very quietly, whispering.

"Welcome back."

Then a lightning stoke in, and the world went black.

When he had opened his eyes again, his surroundings were no longer black, but luminous, which he couldn't quite place. If he was right, fire had most likely this colour, but he didn't understand why would've been need of any fires. And anyway, there was no sound of any wood burning, that much he could tell.

"I always knew that you were not a morning person, but this, Arthur, is just  _ridiculous._ "

Merlin.  _Of course!_  He remembered now.

With this realisation he wanted to sit up at once, but as soon as he tried ache shot in every point of his body. All he could do is to keep his eyesight on the celling, which was  _more than perfect._  Sorcery, it must have been. So deliberately used sorcery. Merlin. He was a sorcerer, wasn't he?  _Wasn't he?_

"...Merlin" he gabbled. It hadn't worked quite as well as he wanted it to, it seemed that his voice was far from functioning normally. But it seemed to be enough. Even though there was no reply, he heard movement, Merlin sat up, and his steps approached. Though the horror that took him, when he laid eyes upon his former servant would've been impossible to describe.

"Oh my god, Arthur, you are looking at me as you'd seen a ghost." As Arthur had made no attempts to reply, he soon cried out.

"Oh. Oh. I see."

If it was possible for the king to get even more terrified, he was now, when the old man's eyes turned from the familiar blue to gold, even if only for a second, it was impossible to miss. However a second later the man's beard disappeared, his wrinkles became flat, and his back seemed to straighten a bit as well. It was only his voice that didn't change.

"Better?"

No it wasn't. Who was this man, and what had he done to Merlin? Or how had he the voice of Merlin? Then it struck him. It was the same old man who had saved Camelot in the battle. And not that long after Merlin confessed, that it was him all along. Because Merlin had guy stealing his servant's appearance was  _his servant_. The look on his face must have told the man otherwise, because Merlin's expression changed.

"...Merlin."

"Yes, Arthur? You've already called out my name. I'm sitting next to you. I can  _hear_  you, you know."

In other cases Arthur would've thrown something at him, but now he was grateful that he was lying in one place, and he wasn't keen at all to make any movements. There were too many questions he wanted to ask, and all of them seemed to be more important than his anger toward Merlin ‒ and apparently his magic. He wanted to know where he was. What happened to him, and to Camelot. How was Guinevere. But he had no idea which mattered him the most.

"What is that glowing ball on the celling?" his voice was getting better.

"Glowing...what?"

"Ball,  _Mer_ lin." the mentioned looked up. But his confused expression didn't seem to ease at all. That's only when he noticed what strange kind of clothing Merlin is wearing "What are you wearing, anyway?"

At that comment, he smiled.

"That  _ball_  is a lamp, Arthur. It gives light. And, just for your information, every cloth I am wearing is actually perfectly normal."

"Lamp?"

"Yeah, like torches, if you prefer."

Arthur waited for a bit, he wasn't sure if it was his place to ask, or not.

"Is it... magic?"

The friendly smile, which Merlin was apparently still wearing ‒ though he couldn't really put his finger on it, but there was something else in his eyes, gratitude and happiness ‒ disappeared right away.

"Nothing in this room is magic, Arthur. It is called  _science_. You might interpret it as magic, but it was people who discovered, invented these things, people who didn't have a gain of magic in their blood. I can assure you that it is a totally different subject."

"Is it dangerous?"

"The lamp?" Merlin laughed "No it isn't."

"I mean this  _science_ , you idiot."

"Well, it depends how you use it. You can certainly kill with branches of it, just as with a sword, or magic, if you please."

"Merlin...what happened?"

"When?"

"You know  _when._ "

"Well, I've saved you as usual, but then Mordred gave you that wound, and I've tried to heal you, but you didn't want to accept my magic, and then...it was too late." he mumbled, and his voice practically faded away at the end of the sentence.

"So you...and your magic...?"

Merlin sighed. He didn't seem comfortable talking about it, though he had just used it to transform himself with it "I was born with magic, I  _am,_ kind of, magic. I never really had a choice. Long story short, my mother sent to Gaius, hoping that he will be able to help, then Kilgharrah was kind enough to tell me, that my destiny is to protect  _you_ , the Once and Future King, and that you will unite Albion, and restore magic. And after you dragged me along to each of your quest, I grew quite fond of saving you, after all I've put quite a hard work into it. And...you are my friend, Arthur. But after you crossed every plan with your  _death_..." he chuckled, and couldn't continue.

"Were you  _protecting_ me all along?"

"Hard to believe it, isn't it?"

"Wait a minute...How do you mean that I've died?"

"Just as people die, Arthur. The blade Mordred stabbed you with was poisonous, and I was too slow, and I couldn't...I couldn't save your life that time."

"How am I here, then?"

"Powerful prophecies are pretty hard to escape" The look on Arthur face told Merlin that he wasn't quite satisfied with that explanation "You were meant to come back, to finish what you've started. And I waited for you. I am not such a bad servant, huh?"

"No, Merlin, you are a  _terrible_  servant" he sighed "But you are a great friend."

Merlin seemed to glow after this comment. Arthur was pleased. He deserved that much. Even though, he was still ready to throw anything at him in any moments. And everything about magic...he wanted to have a longer conversation about this with him, but there were more important things now to take care about.

"Where are we?"

"Well, welcome in my apartment." he stretched out his arms.

"Your what?"

"House, if you prefer."

"How is Guinevere?" he felt a bit ashamed, that he didn't start right away with this question, though.

"Well..."

"What is it, Merlin?" he tried to sit up again.

"She is dead."

"What?"

"She grew old, and old people die, Arthur."

" _Old?_ "

"When year go by, people age. I though you knew that."

" _Of course I knew that!_ But you haven't changed a thing Merlin!"

"You haven't either."

"But..." it suddenly hit him "How long have I been...dead?"

"..."

" _Mer_ lin."

"You don't want to know it" but Merlin only got an alarming look "one and a half thousands years, approximately."

" _WHat?!_ "

"Don't shout with me like it was my fault!"

"You said you've tried to save me, but you couldn't" Arthur was fairly certain that this was an evil stab in Merlin's stomach, but he couldn't care. More than one thousand years!

"Well, to start with, you could've really dodged from that blade. And it is really not my fault, that it took you so long, to wake up, for heaven's sake."

"Why now?" Arthur's voice went back to serious. Probably it was his headache that made him jump between the different topics that fast. He wanted to know everything. He would have time to shout with Merlin later.

"Actually... I have no idea. But I believe we will find it out soon enough. But Arthur, it is three in the morning. And the neighbours will take my head down tomorrow morning. They like to put their nose into everything into even more than  _you_ " seeing Arthur confusion, he didn't continue "I'll be just outside, okay? Shout if you need anything, but you should be fine until the morning. Some sleep will ease your pains."

From the door Merlin turned back once again "Good night, Arthur."

Even though everything was strange around him, he was surrounded with furnitures he had never seen before, his bed was strangely comfortable, better than anything he had ever experienced, anyway; and he had real trouble swallowing those I one and a half _thousands years_ , one thing was fine. Merlin was close, in his reach if needed, like he had mostly always been. As long as he had this one stable point in his life, it was all fine.

Ɵ

_Darkness. It surrounded him like a dark bed-sheet, comfortably, softly, never wanting to let him go. Not that he had any intentions of going anywhere, he was never a morning person, anyway. He turned to place himself in a more agreeable position, when a sudden flash of light took his sight for a moment. A lady emerged from the light, she was very far, and wasn't in a hurry at all._

_Arthur realised that he was lying on the ground, and the darkness around him had totally disappeared, with all the comforts. He couldn't see the end of the light, it seemed to disappear into eternity, and around him, there was noting, but this very strange light. And the lady. She was moving very slowly, but this only made Arthur's senses turn on maximum, he had no idea who she was. Meeting anybody in such a creepy place didn't make him feel good at all, he had a feeling telling him that the woman in from of him had magic. And this only gave him nuts. He know, somewhere deeply buried, that not all magic was bad, after all if he had a friend possessing it, namely Merlin, sorcerer or not. Or just whatever he was. But this still didn't make it okay for random people to appear in an unknown place. While possessing magic. Hypothetically, at least._

_She was dresses in easy, white clothes ‒ it quite reminded him of Morgana, only that this woman was the total opposite in her use of colours, even her hair was blonde. She stepped closer and closer, until it was only a few foot separating them. Arthur looked deeply into her eyes, they were blue, bluer than any ocean, even in the craziest storm. And if looked closely, he seemed, even if only for a moment, see the oceans in her eyes._

" _Arthur..." she whispered, looking at him with ease, sadness filling up her eyes._

" _..."_

" _I've never hoped that I'll meet you again this soon..."_

" _Who are you?" he interrupted; quite rudely as he later realised. But there was a feeling in his chest that didn't quite ease. Fear._

" _Oh, oh, determined as always. Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King. How come that you don't remember me?"_

" _Who are you?" he repeated. If possible, he felt even worse now, but all he wanted were answers. And freedom from that ‒ still hypothetically ‒ magical place._

" _That holds no importance right now, my dear. My magic is limited, and I need to tell you something, before I sink into oblivion..."_

" _Why?" his voice echoed. How did it came, that he couldn't formulate nice and proper sentences. He was the Once and Future King, or what, after all._

" _Because. Haven't you been taught that ancient magic is never to be questioned? Hold your tongue for a bit, and you might actually understand it" her greatness didn't seem to be broken by this, she simply continued, in the same one. At the same time, that was enthralling and frightening. "Prophecies had predicted the arrival of a great king ‒ the Once and Future King, if you please ‒, who will unite Albion, and bring back the magic to Camelot. This was the task of a great king, who will rise when the need is the greatest."_

" _Uther had banned magic from the lands, which was after all directly connected with your birth, as you may know already. His anxiety to destroy every living who has even the smallest possibility of possessing magic. However, this was a decision strongly going against nature. The direct effect of that was the birth of the most powerful warlock ever lived, destined to protect and guide you through your journey."_

" _Merlin...?"_

" _Emrys. Him, who every prophecy speaks of."_

_There was a moment of silence._

" _Mordred and Morgana were your dooms, respectively, and they were both as deadly as unstoppable. But strong prophecies don't get destroyed that easily. However fate is manipulated, and whatever the deeds of the Great Sevens are, one was destined to unite Albion. What was written, will eventually happen. However you real journey only begins now."_

_There was an echo of a bell in the distance, but instead of fading away, it only grew louder with each sound. It made Arthur uneasy. He wasn't fond of the woman anyway, but this place was just becoming creepier with every second, and he still hadn't gotten the information he was hoping to get._

" _You must look out for the traps, because every living soul will try to build obstructions around you. You have to decide..." the loudness of the bells was becoming unbearable "who is worthy of your trust. And never, ever believe that habit cannot be broken..."_

_With a sudden bang, the world seemed to slip out under his legs, everything went black once again, and he started to fall..._

"Arthur!"

_BANG._

"Oh my... are you okay?"

Everything was so comfortable around him, why did his back hurt then?

"How on  _Earth_  had you managed to fall of the bed?"

Oh. So  _that_  was it.

He opened his eyes very slowly. The celling was too perfect to be normal. It wasn't supposed to be like that. What had happened with his normal, wood celling, the one which was in in room. In his  _castle_. Then he saw Merlin leaning over him, and it hit him.

"These clothes are just ridiculous, Merlin."

He only got a scornful look as response.

"Are you alright?"

"Sure I am, don't I look like it?"

"You  _fell out of the bed_ , Arthur."

"And...?"

"Nevermind."

"Idiot."

"Prat."

"It's nice to see that some things just never change."

Merlin had no spiky answers, so he did the best he could: he burst out laughing.

"Can I leave you alone? Are you going to be alright?"

"I am always alright. Hey, wait a minute...where are you going?"

"Work. People have to do something for their money."

"But..." Arthur couldn't finish his sentence, because some very strange noise started playing... from Merlin. Magic, it had to be. However, the warlock didn't seem to be surprised, with an annoyed look he pulled a tiny object out of his  _pockets_ , and put it to his ear. Arthur was getting more and more confused, mostly at the moment when Merlin started to speak  _at_ the object.

"Hello...Yes, yes, I am terribly sorry... I know, I am on my way. Of course I've already left my house... I can explain it... No, no...yes sir, of course... Yes, definitely. Of course. Bye, sir."

"What the...?"

"I don't have time, Arthur, I am sorry, but I really have to run now" his eyes flashed gold, and the old man reappeared "I'll explain everything this evening."

If Arthur wouldn't been already sitting on the flour, he would've most certainly fell off to it. Merlin was using his magic so freely in front of him ‒ which made him proud in a way, because at least this showed him, that Merlin wasn't keeping his  _most important_ secret to himself, but part of him was screaming 'sorcery'. He didn't want to execute his friend, but after all it was Merlin _in the first place_  who told him, that there was no place for magic in Camelot. But as soon as he had enough composure, he was already out of the room, and the frond door slammed behind him. Arthur was left all alone, in the middle on Merlin's room, covered with bedsheets, cursing the day Merlin had saved his life, became his servant and brought all of this on themselves.

If was unsettling. And weird.

Arthur would've actually preferred it all to be magic, not this wicked  _science_ , or whatever the hell it was called. He was rubbing along all alone in the house ‒ he didn't bother too much with doing his bed (although he would've  _never_  admitted that this was because he actually had no idea how to do it), and wondered around in the small apartment. He was glad that he had at least managed to find some bread as well as ham and cheese in a big white box. Which was  _cold_  inside. Weird. But at least he didn't die of hunger. That was progress.

It took him quite a lot of time, however, to figure out where he could go to the lavatory. It was everything but obvious, that the funny-looking porcelain  _thing_  was meant to be for that purpose. The more amazed he was when he found out, that water was installed to the apartment. Science wasn't  _all_ that bad, after all.

Even though, all these experiments weren't the creepiest of all. It was that white small  _table_ , or box, or whatever it was called, what Merlin left on the table. It was nothing more, than a piece of metal. After ten minutes Arthur figured out, that it can actually be unfolded, into two. And there were  _buttons_  on it. And on the buttons, were letters. Just because of curiosity, he pressed one, and that made the whole machine glow, all suddenly. Arthur had almost dropped the thing.  _Magic._

Even though it contradicted everything Arthur had known about life, it was somehow appealing. More than that. He could practically feel eagerness pulling him towards it. He wanted to understand how that thing worked. And when Merlin arrived, he could show him everything, he had found out all by himself. How surprised his servant would be! Just the thought of it made him smile, and with this decision, Arthur settled himself on one of the chairs, and began trying to figure out how that thing worked.

Some times later ‒ it might have been twenty minutes just as well as three hours ‒ Arthur had a cheeky smile on his face, and was more than pleased with himself. He had figured it all out! Okay, not  _all_ of it, but he was certainly making progress. That thing he was on was called a  _computer_ , and he was  _surfing_ on the  _internet_. Though he wasn't totally sure what that whole 'internet' thing meant, but one thing was sure: it was purely awesome. He had very soon discovered 'Google', a magical ‒ or scientific, for the love of the gods ‒ tool which was the  _perfect_  tool for getting information. Sadly, it couldn't provide any explanation for him for "big white box, which is cold inside and magically keeps food fresh", but comparing to Merlin, it was much easier to get some useful facts out of it. After a while, he became pretty curious if he could find anything about himself. 'Arthur Pendragon', he wrote it in. At his biggest surprise, it immediately gave him six hundred- _thousands_ results. That was nice _._ However, he almost fell out of the chair when he had opened the first  _wikipedia_  page, featuring 'King Arthur'. He was known for folklore. Whatever that meant. Even though it was quite fair what he found on his life. There was only one point bothering him. Merlin. That  _clumsy idiot._  Apparently  _someone_  convinced people, that his servant was an old, white bearded, blue cloaked  _wizard,_ who was his  _court sorcerer_  and  _advisor._  He couldn't quite decide if he was about to laugh or cry over that painting, which had even  _featured_  his young young servant as that old man. It was  _hilarious._

This was to be the very first thing he had to show to Merlin. Soon enough, it entered his thoughts that the referred person was  _nowhere to be seen._  Still, even though he had been gone since hours by now. Arthur couldn't believe that Merlin was working that hard. He was never able to tell this at the time, he was his servant. Wait, he was  _still_  his servant.  _Right?_ It was almost impossible to imagine otherwise. Of course, it was a long ago ‒ literally ‒ that they had no longer acted as servant and master, but rather as friends, and it doesn't matter how hard Arthur had tried to deny it, it was a open secret in the whole city, if not even the kingdom. But somehow it didn't seem to matter now.

Where was Merlin? Suddenly this question seemed to be very important. Was something wrong with him? Was he in danger? If yes, could  _he_  be able to help him? After all, he had no idea where he was.  _That_  was unsettling.

Suddenly he heart the door crack open.

"Merlin?"

No answers.

"Hey Merlin, is that you?"

Before he could've looked out for his  _friend_ , the world suddenly turned black, and he lost consciousness.

Ɵ

His first though was surely annoyance. That's it, He was fed up with being conscious, then suddenly unconscious all the time. It was  _annoying_.

However, something didn't feel quite right. Or was it too familiar? It was certainly plain ground he was lying on, he knew very well the feeling. But that could only happen in a forest, and the days of Camelot were long gone.  _Right?_

Arthur slowly opened his eyes, just to find himself in the middle of a forest. Not  _a_  forest. The forest. He had been there more than enough times to be entirely sure which forest that was.

But how on Earth could he be in  _Camelot?_

Arthur looked around, just to see the totally normal, young Merlin lying blacked out next to him. Even in proper clothes. Without thinking twice, with one step he thread next to him. But the very same time, he heard branches breaking, and leaves shuffling. They were surrounded.

_How?_

He straightened himself, with some attention on Merlin, who seemed to be waking up. Arthur unleashed is sword ‒ thank the gods that it was there, and put away his confusions. He had time to ask Merlin about  _this_  later. If they survived it, whatever was coming, Merlin would better have an answer for  _everything._

As he turned around, he almost dropped his sword in his shock.

"Merlin?" he saw a knight with a Camelot-red cape hurry to his half-conscious servant.  _Gwaine?_

"Sire?" he found himself face-to-face with Lancelot, the knight's eyes full with questions.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER II

Merlin remembered how powerfully the Sun seemed to shine the whole day. He couldn’t quite decide if this was nature’s way to propitiate the awful weather that occurred last night, or it was just him: happier than he would’ve admitted to have Arthur back. After all, he was his friend. And he waited quite patiently for him to _finally_ wake up.

It also seemed that he’d accepted magic ‒ kind of, at least. It was one thing that he seemed to be more sleepy that any morning he remembered to wake him up as a servant, but it was still the nicest thing in the World to finally see him again. Maybe he was overreacting it. Or he was just simply growing old. But he still couldn’t help but think about the man all day.

It would’ve been alright, though. He planned to call it a day early, go home, order some pizza, and talk out everything with Arthur. It was time that he told him about everything. After all, he wasn’t the King anymore ‒ not literally at least ‒ and he couldn’t have his head off. That, if nothing else, was quite reassuring.

The World went strange, when suddenly Merlin’s ears started to ring. It wasn’t that bad in the first five minutes, but it became horrid after that. He couldn’t quite place the feeling, his hearing was perfectly normal during all those years, it had no reason to start now... And when he could have realised anything about _magic_ , the world went black, and the next time he opened his eyes, he was surrounded by the knights of Camelot. _In_ Camelot.

“Merlin” Wait a minute. _Gwaine?_

“Gwaine?”

Were they really back there? How back did they get in time? Why?

_Did Arthur remember?_ If he didn’t, Merlin was going to kill him with his bare hands. If something wasn’t fair, than this was it. He quickly looked around, and he could see Lancelot helping up Arthur, who was at least as confused as he was. That seemed to be right. He still could have some hope.

Wait a minute. _Lancelot?_ If he was still alive, than they had to be sometimes around Uther’s death.

But that meant that there was two Arthur and Merlin. _Hell._ They could only hope, that this was one of those rare missions when Arthur hadn’t accompanied his knights. Because otherwise it would’ve been a really, _really_ creepy meeting.

“Of course, could you ever believe me to be somebody else? If yes, you make a really crap friend, Merlin.”

“Don’t you worry, you are unique.”

“Hoped so” grinned Gwaine, and helped Merlin to his feet.

Arthur on the other hand was looking at Lancelot if he had seen a ghost. Thankfully, he kept his mouth shut, and didn’t say a word about it. He nodded, recognising the knight’s effort, but he didn’t say a word.

“How come you are out here, _my lord_?” asked Gwaine “I thought you were too busy with doing your kingy stuff to come along.”

Suddenly a huge rock fell off Merlin chest. _Thanks heavens_.

“Umm...”

“He’s been bored to hell, and apparently thought that it would be a much better idea to catch up with you” Merlin improvised fast. It wouldn’t been right to get caught in the very beginning. Although Lancelot shot him a strange look, he tried not to notice it. At the time, Arthur pulled a really strange face, but still didn’t say a word. Though Merlin still had no clue _when_ they were.

“So how far did you get with the quest?”

“Well, still we didn’t yet reach Lightlake, nothing much. There weren’t any in our way so far, so we don’t have any further information about the circumstances either.”

_Lightlake._ Shit. He wasn’t quite sure what memory it brought up, but as far he seemed to remember it wasn’t any good. Most likely, there was something with magic. And then the knights would be useless against it. Were they brought back to solve this particular problem? Why?

“Let’s go” interrogated his thoughts Percival. Was he here as well? Who else? Merlin wanted very badly to remember the details of the mission, but somehow the information of the last bloody one and a half thousand years somehow overwrote it. He wanted to ask Arthur as soon as possible about it, but as he seemed in the moment, he was in such a great shock that he wasn’t competent to provide answers, He needed a plan. Fast.

“We should find shelter before the sun goes down” said Arthur, his instincts overwriting his thoughts “There are some safe caves not too far from here, and the wouldn’t even be off the route. That would be the safest place to spend the night.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” asked Gwaine, joyfully.

Merlin didn’t like this. At all. It was hard to admit that even if he was happy to see his friend _alive_ , he knew very well what the ending was for them. But he didn’t know what was going to happen the night he was shortened with , the one where he would’ve had the opportunity to talk out with Arthur every question they had for the other, and finally, _finally_ move on. It would’ve been funny to see Arthur, in _normal_ , everyday clothes, jeans for example. And show him how the internet worked. And cell phones. And thai food. There was so much to see, and it would’ve meant something new for him. But here he had to hide himself from his friends, and this too familiar feeling held his lung so tight, that he had trouble breathing. _It wasn’t fair._

“What’s wrong?” Merlin almost jumped out of his skin. Lancelot.

“Nothing.”

“Bollocks. I know when you aren’t fine Merlin. I _know_.”

He sighed. He knew he could talk about magic with Lancelot, but this case was different. He couldn’t tell him about the situation he was in, because the knight would’ve never believed him. And even if he would, the possibilities would’ve been so sensitive, that he didn’t want to risk it anyway.

“There is magic there. I am sure, Lancelot. But I have no idea what, or gods forbid, who it is, and what it is doing there” he said instead “And I’d rather not want to know it either. But like we had a choice.”

He patted him on the shoulders. There was nothing much he could’ve said. They both knew the only one with magic, with _good_ magic and good intentions was Merlin. And had to fight magic with magic. There was no other way. There never was.

He loved to help, that wasn’t the case. He would’ve done _anything_ for the knight of Camelot. Just a pizza, some jazz and a good talk was far more inviting.

But this wasn’t Merlin’s choice, and he had to get himself together, otherwise there was no much likelihood that he would be able to keep himself together, when he needed to.

“It alright. Um. I mean. Yes. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry” he mumbled.

Lancelot smiled.

 

Most of the route the team remained silent, Arthur wasn’t in the mood to talk, and even Gwaine sensed this, and kept calm. They’ve found the caves, when the sun was almost down. Merlin knew well enough the area, even if it was years and years ago that he’d been here. They’ve constantly stopped here with Arthur on missions only the two of them went, because Arthur couldn’t be kept back, and Merlin didn’t want to let him die because of some revengeful sorcerers. The trees around were high and kept the light from penetrating. There was a chill and the temperature started to drop fast enough.

“Merlin, get some wood for a camp-fire” Arthur told him, not even looking in his direction.

“Prat” he replied, already heading to the entrance of the cave. He was a servant, there was no way denying anything, even if it meant searching for firewood in the cold.

“I’ve heard that” Arthur shouted after him.

“I know” he shouted back.

It surprised him how easily he could slip back into him role abandoned long ago, and he didn’t even need to think about it. As he looked after firewood, his brain took over the control. He was concentrating on a plan which would’ve got them out this mess. Get them home, for example. Or at least help deal with whatever magical mess there was in Lightlake, and get on. First of all, he needed to talk with Arthur. Probably he already had some plan. Probably he actually remembered what this was all about, because Merlin certainly didn’t. Although he certainly had some advantages. Arthur knew about his magic. He wasn’t so kept back about using it. Although he knew very well, that Gwaine and Percival couldn’t see it, because it would disturb the line of time. He read Harry Potter enough times to very well know this. But Arthur surely had some tactics which involved at least the other two knights staying behind.

But then there was the problem of _getting back._ It wasn’t natural to have two of the same peoples in time, their place was in the future. However Merlin didn’t know any time-travelling magic. And since Doctor Who wasn’t real either... The worst was that he couldn’t ask Gaius about it. Because then he would have to explain why he s asking it, and he could very much suspect that he isn’t _his_ Merlin. And he didn’t want to disturb time _that much._ It would’ve been nice to see him though.

_“Mer_ lin! Why aren’t you looking before your feet _again_? Some things just don’t change, right?”

Merlin stopped, and a second later he saw the huge branch before his feet, which he would’ve totally tripped over, if Arthur wouldn’t have warned him.

“You wish.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure actually.”

They took a few steps in silence.

“What are you doing out here, anyway? I thought that it’s the _servant’s_ job to collect firewood” he asked in an edgy tone.

“Of course it is” he took a deep breath “Merlin, what are we doing here?” his tone was filled with concern, and a moment later Merlin realised: worry. “We aren’t supposed to be here, right? Lancelot is supposed to be _dead._ What the...?”

“I have no idea, Arthur” he sighed “I was planning on ordering pizza, and everything... Then from one moment to the other, we were here. I don’t. I don’t know. I wish I did. But I don’t.”

“Gods. Wait. What is that pizza thing you were talking about?”

“Nevermind” Merlin smirked. Arthur and his appetite.

“Melin, do you remember the quest of Lightlake?”

“Nope. I actually hoped you would.”

“Isn’t this your job, _Mer_ lin?”

“Yeah, maybe it was _a thousand year ago._ Well, at least from my point of view” he sighed “You you can’t call back anything either, can you?”

“Well, I remember some about it being all mysterious and that I didn’t bother with it, because it didn’t seem to be important enough. Do you think magic is involved?”

“The very name of the whole village makes me shiver. I don’t remember for certain, but something is just there...”

“Aren’t you playing a girl, Merlin?”

“Oi!”

BUMM.

“What was that, Arth-”

A dozens of bandits rushed out from the shadows of the trees.

Without blinking, Arthur drew out this sword, and aimed at the nearest of them. With two slashes, the bandit was on the earth, without moving, and Arthur, not looking back, aimed at the next one. There was too much of them. Merlin thought about the easiest spell to use, and a branch fell in the next moment on top os two of them. But the next moment, they’ve heard Percival shouting. Apparently, they were close to the cave, and the attack caught them just in the wrong moment. The knights must have heard the loud noises, and now they were running, all holding their sword, coming to the rescue.

Merlin could’ve gotten all bandits with one spell, as he later realised, but even the tree-branch trick needed a moment, as he was totally out of practice _against bandits._ It was so the Middle Ages. Literally. The spell ‒ which he no longer had to hide from Arthur was on the tip of his tongue ‒, but he didn’t want the others to find out. Under any conditions. They couldn’t change the order of the past.

“No...!” Merlin shouted, glancing at the approaching knights.

Percival lanced in with full force into the counter-attack, closely followed by Lancelot and Gwaine.

Merlin had nothing to fight with, all he could do was to bend from the most dangerous attacks. At least from those he could see.

“Merlin, look out!” he heard Lancelot shouting. He tried to turn back, to see what was so important, after all, most of the bandits have been taken down, him standing in the middle, _hopeless_ , because he had no other options. From the corner of his eyes, he saw someone coming with something shiny in his hands, and only too late he realised what it was. Percival, the closest to him from all knights, launched forward, to take the attack, and although a second later Merlin, as he turned around, saw the bandit falling, he was pretty sure that he had managed to harm Percival. With some desperation, the other knights managed to make the bandits fall or at least to flee, and everyone followed Merlin’s cry to the side of Percival.

“How much did he cut you?” he cried.

“It’s fine, Merlin, It’s some traits we knights have to suffer” he tried to smile weakly.

“No, it is not fine! You are bleeding! You are losing blood way to fast for it to be _fine._ ”

“Can you do anything?” Arthur asked in a muted tone.

“We need to get him back to the cave” Merlin turned around “Percival, don’t you _dare_ to lose your consciousness!” he slapped him on the face, which made all other knights jump around him, but Percival, who didn’t even flinch. Merlin was never anything _brutal._ “Come on!”

Ɵ

 

“So...?” Arthur asked.

“He’ll be fine” Merlin sighed “But it will take him a long time. His wound is deep. I cleaned it, and if it doesn’t become infected, then we should be alright. However, it will need time to heel.”

“So we’ll stay here, then?” Gwaine interrupted.

“”Well. Um. I suppose we could move on tomorrow, or at last the day after it. I mean, there is more likely a problem with Percival handling a sword. He cannot use his right arm too much, because it risks tearing the would open again. In a day, if he gets enough rest and food, then his blood should reproduce, and he would just be able to ride a horse finely. Percival is very strong., I think he’ll be just fine.”

“Thanks the gods” Lancelot sighed “It looked _really_ bloody.”

“It really did” Gwaine confirmed.

“I seems, that your training with Gaius finally resulted in something” Arthur added.

“Yeah” Merlin sighed, with a strongly ironic tone “it really does, doesn’t it?”

 

As the sun went down long ago, and the life of Percival was no longer a matter of sake, they’ve all decided to retire, and see if tomorrow they would be able to continue their journey.

“I’ll take first watch”Merlin muttered.

“No, Merlin, I’ll do it” volunteered Lancelot right away “You’ve already had enough today” he stepped closer “You could use some sleep, yeah?”

He was answered with a tired smile.

“It’s all right, Lancelot. I just need some time to think, it’s going to be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

Arthur watched their exchange a bit envyingly. He couldn’t quite explain it to himself why, but after everything he had experienced with Lancelot, it was hard to trust him. Eventually he knew, that it wasn’t their fault what had happened, but magic’s; still it made him feel uneasy to see his servant, _friend_ , in a probably closer relationship with the man, than with himself. Did Merlin trust Lancelot any more? Wasn’t he, Arthur, worth the trust? What made Lancelot so different?

Would it been possible that he knew about Merlin’s magic.

All along?

“Wake me up as second, will you?”

Merlin nodded.

Arthur shook his head. _No way._

They all curled up on their sleeping bags, but sleep didn’t want to come. Arthur turned and moved the less he could, not wanting to disturb the other. The most important was for Percival to get enough sleep. They had to move on tomorrow, and see what was that wrong about Lightlake. As far as he could tell, the time was turning into summer, and it would be very soon time that he follows on with his work with governing his kingdom. Then he remembered, that _another_ Arthur was already doing that, and he could just rightly work on the mission. He tried to remember anything about Lightlake, but it didn’t seemed to be an interesting affair at the time. He sent some of his best knights, and they couldn’t find anything particular, so he didn’t really bother. And not that they’d heard about it again.

“You cannot sleep either, can you?” Merlin’s voice was soft, barely a whisper.

Arthur remained silent for some time, suddenly not knowing where his thoughts ended. He tried to grasp their end, but it was too loose, and he was unable to capture it.

“No.”

Arthur pulled himself up, only to see Merlin watching him. A moment later he decided that he wasn’t going to be able to sleep for a while anyway, to he stood up, and moved to sit with Merlin at the entrance of the cave.

“What doesn’t let you sleep?” he asked finally.

Merlin shivered.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. Something is so _odd_ about this while situation. It isn’t meant to be. We shouldn’t be twice at the same time.”

“It’s not like we’re going to meet ourselves.”

“Right, I know that. But what if we mess up something?”

“I certainly doubt that.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know. But why would we be here? Not to mess up everything, certainly. After all, I am the great king Arthur, and you are, or were, my court sorcerer, or what” he waved helplessly “You know what I am talking about. And it’s not like we couldn’t have dealt with other problems before that...”

“Hold on a minute! What was all that about the great King Arthur?”

“Um...”

“How did you...?”

“I kinda figured out how to make that box of yours work, and that strange thing, Google, if I remember correctly was pretty keen on answering me about, well, myself.”

Merlin chocked up a laugh.

“You made my computer work? Wow, Arthur, I’ve never expected you actually could.”

“Because...?” Arthur’s voice dropped several tones.

“Well, you never were an expect in magic, nor science as I seem to remember.”

“It was kind of strange, mind you, to figure out that this big white box of yours was meant to store _food_ inside.”

“It’s called a fridge.”

“Whatever you say, _Mer_ lin.”

Merlin couldn’t help but laugh this time. “What else did you find on the internet?”

“Did you know that people actually believed you to be my _court sorcerer_ not my manservant? Oh, and also, they’ve picture showing you old, _with a blue pointy hat._ ”

“Mind you, that was a perfectly fine Disney adaptation of out legend.”

“A what?”

“Nevermind.”

“ _Mer_ lin.”

“I’ll show you if we get back. It’s pretty hard to explain it without it.”

“But still Merlin, a blue, pointy hat? I knew you never really had a sense of fashion, but _really_?”

“Well, I didn’t want people to know everything about us. I mean, it would’ve been creepy enough if they could’ve recognise me, based on pictures, So I kind of lied about my appearance a bit here or there.”

“Wait, are you saying, that it was all your doing?”

Merlin’s voice suddenly became really high.

“Maybe?”

“Gods Merlin, you are really a terrible liar.”

“People believed it!”

“Whatever you say, Merlin.”

They sat some time in silence.

“So what are we going to do now?” _Are we going to continue with this quest? Will we try to get back instead? What do we do, Merlin?_

“I-...I don’t know...?”

“You are my court sorcerer!”

“You just said I wasn’t!”

“ _Mer_ lin..!”

“Okay, okay, _sire_!” Arthur tensed, but he didn’t show. The mocking tone made him edgy “Give me a minute.”

“So, first of all, we were both dropped back into our original time, yeah? Most likely in the same time. Considering that you only woke up last night, it might have very well something to do with your need to save Albion. Again.”

“My...what?”

“Shut up. I am thinking.”

“If you don’t want me to interrupt, then do it _quietly._ ”

“Just let me continue, you dollophead!”

“How do you mean that I need to save Albion _again_?”

“Listen now, ask later” Merlin’s eyes were flashing gold. Arthur almost interrupt again, but Merlin didn’t seem to take the joke “Now, most likely both of us are needed. But why make us come back from the future? We could’ve just handled it _fine_ when we were living in the actual present! Isn’t it in the future where you are needed? It’s not like I couldn’t have hidden my magic from you, I did well enough for a decade, after all. What on _Earth_ could be that important which would make us come _back_?” he sighed “I’m not an expert of time travelling. It isn’t even supposed to be a real thing. It’s only science fiction! It only exists in _Doctor Who_!”

“Doctor _what_?” asked Arthur before he could think about _not_ interrupting.

“Shite.”

“What is it Merlin?”

“ _No way_!”

“ _Mer_ lin...!”

“ _Holy shite!_ ”

“Merlin, tell me already, or I will make you tell me in my own ways, but I can promise you, that you _won’t like it_...”

“What if we are meant to change the future? So you won’t have to reborn, and all of that?”

“How could I change my own future that way? Merlin, you’re just being all impossible.”

“It’s just called a _paradox,_ Arthur. It’s not like it cannot be possible.”

“What is a paradox?”

“It’s...it’s some science thingy. You wouldn’t understand it.”

“Shut up, _Mer_ lin.”

“Anyway, what do we do, if we are back to put everything back into the right order, and destroy out future self?”

“That’s just purely dramatic, Merlin.”

“But what if...?” pure terror showed up on his face.

“I am not a magician Merlin, but most likely your hypothesis is wrong.”

“And you’re so sure about that, because...?”

“because I am the _bloody_ king, and I am always right.”

“Prat.”

“Do you have any other ideas?”

Silence.

“Not really.”

“So what do we do?”

Merlin seemed to be on the edge of shouting, but instead he replied really, really quietly, almost whispering.

“We carry on? We might even find a way back in Lighlake. It’s not like that isn’t a reason for us being here. We just need to find it, make everything right, and go back as soon as possible.”

“You don’t like here?”

“Of course I do! But... look Arthur, it was unbelievably hard, but I’ve managed to move on, okay? It’s like tearing up my heart into pieces. Again.”

“You really are a drama queen, aren’t you?”

“Shut up!”

In a more lighter tone Arthur continued.

“You should have some sleep, Merlin. I’ll wake up Lancelot a bit later.”

“Are you sure?”

“I have _awfully_ lot of questions about your magic. But you need your beauty sleep. Go on, Merlin.”

“Alright...”

“I didn’t know you became so wise” Arthur’s voice was a soft echo on the walls.

“I was always wise, you just didn’t pay attention” Merlin smirked, only his blue eyes glimmering in the dark.

“Good night, _Mer_ lin” replied Arthur with an annoyed tone, and a circle of his eyes, but his smile already showing.


End file.
